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He grins as he rubs a hand up and down my back. “Tell me what Christmas was like when you were growing up in California.”
I growl and look away. Ryker has been pushing me to talk about my previous life since I moved in with him.
“Why do you continue to push me?”
“Why did you quit counseling after one session?”
“I promised I’d give counseling a go. I never promised to keep at it if it didn’t work.”
And the counselor totally creeped me out. I wasn’t telling Ryker about Mr. Creepy Counselor, though. Who knows what Mr. Overprotective on Steroids would do if he found out the man creeped me out? I made up some lame excuse about counseling not working instead.
“I know the counselor creeped you out.”
Wait. What? “Are you reading my mind?”
“Babe.”
Ugh! I hate when he answers with babe. If it’s the last thing I do on this earth, I will rid him of the habit.
He rolls so he’s lying on top of me. “If you’re not going to talk to a counselor, then you need to talk to someone. I want to be that someone.”
I stare at him a moment. He’s wearing the ‘not giving up’ look. I know fighting him will be futile.
“Fine. Holidays in my previous life were beyond stressful. Everything had to be perfect. Everyone had to look perfect. It was exhausting. Is that what you want to hear?”
He nuzzles my neck. “Staying home yesterday didn’t bother you?”
I tug on his hair until he looks at me. “Are you not hearing me? I don’t want stress. I want to spend time with you. Yesterday was perfect. I loved it.”
His smile lights up his face. “Exactly what I wanted to hear.” He reaches over and opens the drawer of his bedside table. He picks something out before slamming the drawer closed and returning his attention to me.
“Phoebe, will you make this holiday perfect for me by agreeing to become my wife?”
My mouth drops open and I do the perfect imitation of a gaping fish. My heart speeds up and my chest squeezes. Surely, I didn’t hear him correctly. “But we hardly know each other.” And my previous marriage wasn’t exactly a happy time. Plus, I’m not exactly divorced yet.
He shrugs. “I know I love you. What else do I need to know?”
Um, I’m sure I can think of something if he gives me a minute. But my brain isn’t working yet, and my heart is still beating out of control. “I’m surprised you’re asking. You pretty much demanded I move in with you.”
Ryker chuckles as he slides the ring onto my finger. “If you didn’t say yes, I was planning on using sex as a weapon.”
My heart races. “I didn’t say yes.”
“Too late. The ring’s on your finger now.”
I roll my eyes. “You weren’t asking, were you? You were demanding I marry you.”
He ignores my snipe to ask, “Aren’t you going to look at your ring?”
“I…” I’m at a loss for words. This is crazy. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea of marriage and he’s pushing me to look at my ring.
My first marriage was dysfunctional with a capital D. After that disaster, I’m not exactly raring to give marriage another go.
Ryker taps my cheek with his finger until I give him my attention. “Princess, I am not Theodore. I am not going to take away your choices and keep you locked up in a gilded cage. I’m going to spend every single day of my life proving to you that you made the right choice when you took a chance on me. I love you.”
I stare into his mossy green eyes. They’re filled with sincerity and hope. Dare I take a chance on this man? The man who – once he got his head out of his ass – has made me his number one priority every second of every day? I bite my lip and nod.
His dimple makes an appearance before his mouth dips to meet mine in a sweet, innocent kiss. He pulls back and tilts his head toward my hand. “Now are you going to look at your ring?”
